Sergei, who had run a few meters away, turned back, picked up Michel, and ran toward the spot on the shore where the horses were tied.
"Mount up! Mount up!" Old Sergei shouted as he ran, with the Dusacks in the river channel dashing towards their warhorses.
Several coachmen lashed their draft horses desperately, trying to force their way through the ford. Others, in their panic, attempted to turn around but found themselves immobilized.
Inside the ford at that moment, chaos reigned; only a few coachmen and laborers jumped onto their carts in search of weapons, while the rest fled.
The sound of bowstrings vibrating came from the shrubs on both sides of the riverbank, accompanied by the "whoosh" of arrows flying chaotically over the water's surface.
"Archers!" someone screamed in agony.
"There are crossbowmen in the woods!" another shouted loud.